Silver Bullet
by glitterXblood
Summary: it was supposed to be a silver bullet of a job, a fail proof heist. But when everything falls a part, it leaves Joe's daughter struggling to pick up the pieces.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N this is an adaptation of There's a Kid, that I had written several years ago during the cringe-worthy years of middle school. So if things look familiar, I'm not stealing, its me, still. Also disclaimer I only own what looks unfamiliar, everything else belongs to Tarantino.**

"Whatchu lookin' for Av's?" Eddie asks, not moving his legs from the table.

"My fucking math textbook," I repeat, shoving his feet off of the table. It wasn't there, but my science book was.

"You don't need math, just forget it," Eddie says.

"Maybe you didn't, but I do," I say, throwing my pencil at him. It hits him square in the forehead.

"Jesus, what you do that for?"

"Just 'cause," I shrug, continuing to look for my book.

"Hey, you two, Joe wants to see you," Dov says, walking into the room.

"Shit, what did you do?" I whisper, looking at Eddie while straightening my skirt.

"I didn't do anything. It was probably you," Eddie replies quietly.

"Me, what did I do?" I ask.

"What didn't you do?" Eddie counters.

"Okay, okay, but I haven't skipped _that_ many days of school this semester," I say, mostly to myself.

"It's midterm and you've already missed 28-" Eddie starts.

"Shut up!" I exclaim as we reach the hallway outside of Joe's office. Eddie walks straight in, but I hang back slightly.

"Hey you," Mr. Purple says, walking out of Joe's office.

"Hey…"

"You know that someone is going to catch on real quick that you aren't going to school right? Acting like you do homework and putting on your uniform isn't going to cut it anymore," Mr. Purple says in an almost whisper.

"I-"

"No, Avery. Start going to school, I can work something with your principal so Joe doesn't find out. But you're cutting it close kid, less than two months and you graduate."

"I know, I know," I sigh.

"Do you? I don't think you do."

"I'll go tomorrow, promise," I say finally.

"Now go, I have a feeling you're going to like what's in there," Mr. Purple says, pushing me towards the office. I start walking slowly towards the office. If Mr. Purple knew, Joe knew.

I look ahead, trying to gage how pissed Joe is, but my line of vision is blocked by someone I haven't seen in forever.

"Vic!" I shout, running the last few steps and wrap my arms around him. "When did you get out? I thought it was another six months."

"Few days ago," Vic says offhandedly. "Have you been staying out of trouble?"

"Yup," I say, and the same time Eddie says no.

"She skipped over 100 days so far this year," Eddie explains.

"How do you know that?" I ask, turning on Eddie.

"Well someone has to read your report cards kid." Eddie shrugs. "Nice D in math by the way. This is like your second time taking it, right?"

"Damn," Vic says, "What are you doing?"

"I-uh, nothing," I stutter.

"Let me rephrase that," Vic says, " _Who_ are you doing?" he asks with his signature smirk.

"I-uh-" I stammer, feeling my face heat up.

"So there IS someone?" Eddie asks, leaning back on Joe's desk.

"There's NO ONE!" I say, completely honest, but they weren't buying it.

"Liar, so do we know this guy?" Eddie asks.

"I'm not lying!"

"Bullshit. So this guy, he treating you alright, or are we gonna have to kill him?" Vic asks.

"You wouldn't!" I say, but there's a small bit of me that knows that Vic might.

"So there is a guy!" Eddie says, grinning like a cat that got the fucking cream.

"There isn't a guy!" I protest. Eddie opens his mouth to say something but Joe cuts him off.

"Enough! We have business to discuss, but this doesn't mean I won't be talking to you later about this skipping school routine," Joe says.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, sinking lower in the chair. Joe, Eddie, and Vic go on talking about getting Vic a job at the docks so he can start up working for us again.

"How do you feel about pulling a job with about five other guys?" Joe asks Vic. I perk up at this.

"I'd feel great about it," Vic replies grinning. Finally. Finally a chance to do a job with Vic. I've been waiting for this for years.

"We'll call you later," Joe says as a way of dismissing him. Vic and Eddie leave the office and I start to follow.

"Avery," Joe says.

"Yes?" I ask as sweetly as possible, turning around.

"Come here," he commands. I walk back into the office and stand in front of his desk. "What was Eddie saying about you missing over 100 days of school?"

"Oh that, pssh, you know Eddie. He exaggerates all the time, that's what he does, all right. He's exaggerating."

"Avery," Joe says, "What do I always tell you?"

"Don't talk about the family," I say.

"And?"

"And don't spend so much money on books."

"And?"

"And don't mouth off to any of your friends."

"How about go to fucking school?"

"Right," I say, looking down at the desk.

"You're a smart kid, you could go far," Joe says.

"I know," I say quietly.

"Now go get ready. We're meeting some kid and Larry at Smokey Pete's," Joe says, dismissing me. Standing in the hallway are Eddie and Vic, looking like a couple of idiots trying to listen in.

"That's all?" Eddie asks, looking upset I didn't get it worse.

"What can I say, Daddy won't do anything to his little princess," I mock, rolling my eyes.

"You're gonna get yourself kicked out of school," Vic says.

"Nu-uh, I'm passing all of my classes," I argue.

"They can kick you out for missing so many days of school, smartass," Eddie says.

"Wait, what?" I ask, staring at both of them.

"Yeah, you can even get thrown in Juvie," Vic says.

"No you can't. Can you?"

"Sure you can, it's like truancy or some shit like that," Eddie says.

"Wait, seriously?!" I ask, worried.

"Yes," Vic says at the same time Eddie says "No."

"Fuck you guys," I say, going into my room and slamming the door. After nearly ten minutes of searching I find my jacket under my bed. I grab my lipgloss, house keys and bottle of painkillers from my school bag and shove them in my jean pocket. I place my gun in one of my jacket pockets and my book in the other.

"Avery!" Eddie yells from the front hall.

"I'm coming," I yell, leaving my room and shutting the door. I run down the stairs, skipping the last four and almost knocking into Eddie.

"Jesus christ kid," Eddie says, grabbing my shoulders to keep me from falling over.

"Where's Vic?" I ask.

"Had to get back to the halfway house," Eddie explains, heading out of the house and to the car.

"So who's gonna be there?" I ask from the backseat. Eddie was riding shotgun and Joe was driving.

"Larry-" Eddie starts.

"Who's going by Mr. White," Joe interrupts.

"This new kid, Frankie, or Fredward, or something," Eddie continues.

"Who's going by Mr. Orange," Joe adds.

"Just them?" I ask.

"Yeah, and you're not to say your name either," Joe says. "There are some new guys on this job and they don't need to be knowing who you are. You will be going by Miss Silver." I sigh, staring out the window for the rest of the ride.

"You have your ID with you?" Joe asks as we approach the bar door.

"Shit no, I left it in my car," I say after checking my pockets.

"Go wait by the back door," Eddie says, "We'll be there in a few minutes." I sigh but make my way around the corner and into the alley behind the building. There's no one back there besides a guy with Laker's jersey and jean vest, leaning against the trashcans lighting up.

"Silvia?" a waitress asks, opening the backdoor. I smile at her walking in and going to Joe's usual table.

"Whatchu get me?" I ask Eddie, eyeing the drink that is placed in front of me.

"Try it," Eddie says.

"Not until you tell me what it is," I counter, throwing the straw wrapper at him.

"The same as always I see," Larry says, joining us at the table.

"Why would I change perfection?" I ask, flipping my hair over my shoulder for added effect.

"You got a lot of changing to do then," Eddie smirks.

"Fuck off," I say, elbowing Eddie in the ribs.

"So are you gonna drink it or what?" Eddie asks again.

"So are you gonna tell me what it is or what?" I mimick.

"It's a fucking Jack and Coke, now stopping fighting, here comes our guy," Joe says, silencing us. I throw a piece of popcorn at Eddie in retaliation.

"Yeah, that's him," Eddie confirms. I look in the direction that they are staring in to see a familiar face staring back at me. Comic book guy. Shit, what's his name? He walks over our table.

"You alright? You look like you've seen a ghost," Larry says, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"I, uh," I say, breaking my gaze from comic book guy to look at him, "I just feel a little lightheaded, I'll be right back." I get up from the table and head to the restroom. I lean against the wall trying to slow my breathing. I mean, this couldn't be that bad, I think. I review the things I know about comic book guy: he hung out around there in the fall, we only talked once around christmas, and then I stopped going because a job had us leave country for a month and a half. Fuck. What was his name?

I need to get myself together. I glance at my watch, figuring I have only a minute or two before Joe sends someone looking for me. I look in the grimy mirror deciding what I could change to make me look not like the nerdy girl that hangs out at the comic book store. I take my hair out of its ponytail holder and tease it up a little with my fingers. I sigh, giving up pulling my hair back into a ponytail. Fuck it, I decide, walking back towards the bar room.

Everyone seems to be laughing at something the guy, Mr. Orange said. I smile, sitting at the table between Eddie and Larry.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I own nothing, except for the stuff you don't recongnize**

I follow the cop down the hospital hallway, our footsteps echoing loudly. I think his name is Holdaway, but I'm not sure. He's the same cop that has been speaking to me on and off for the past three days. I twist my hands nervously, not knowing what to expect. We crisscross towards the back of the hospital, travelling downstairs and through hallways. Our footsteps echo down the hallway, and each one fuels my headache. Holdaway stops in the basement next to a doorway, turning to look at me.

"If you're not ready to do this, kid, you don't have to do it today. It can wait," Holdaway says, leaning against the door.

"No, it's fine," I say, taking a deep breath. "It needs to be done." Holdaway opens the door and I follow him in. It's about 20 degree colder in the room and there are bright lights hanging above each table. On each of the six tables, there's a human shaped lump covered by a white sheet. I walk over to the table Holdaway is standing next to a he lifts the sheet.

"Can you tell me who this is?" Holdaway asks.

"Mr. Bl-, Charles," I answer after taking a deep breath. I'm guessing that the cop wants any real names I know. I need to do this, I remind myself. He drops the sheet and walks over to the next table. I follow. He lifts the next sheet and I cringe slightly. There was a bullet hole point blank on his forehead.

"Mr. Brown," I say before Holdaway can ask. I wrap my arms around myself, fighting off the cold. Holdaway moves to the next table and lifts the sheet. I stare at the body on the table, not able to fully comprehend that he was dead. Completely 100% dead.

"Avery?" Holdaway asks. I look up quickly.

"Joe," I say quietly. Holdaway nods and moves to the next table. I stand next to him waiting for him to remove the sheet. When he does I step back, knocking into a cart. He looks like he could be sleeping, but he always, no matter what, sleeps on his belly. He looks unnatural, like he's pretending or something.

"You alright kid? You going to throw up or something?" Holdaway asks.

"I'm fine," I say brushing away tears. "It's Eddie." Holdaway nods again, moving to the next table. Vic, it has to be. I prepare myself for the sight, his body riddled with holes, cold and pale. Holdaway lifts the sheet and I feel my stomach fall to my feet. I take a step forward before turning on my heels and running out of the morgue. I skid around a corner and collapse to the floor. It wasn't suppose to be him, anyone but him. With him gone, there's no one left. Everyone, everyone was in that room, except for me. This isn't how it suppose to end. Not like this. Not with everyone gone-

"Miss, miss, can you look at me, miss?" a voice asks. I look up from my hands and find the source of the voice. It is a young nurse kneeling in front of me. "I'm going to take you upstairs, do you think you can walk?" I nod slowly. The nurse grabs my arm and pulls me up. Holdaway appears out of nowhere, wrapping his arm around my waist and guiding me down the hallway. We get to an empty room and the nurse helps me onto the bed. The nurse leaves and returns to the room a few times, before leaving the room with Holdaway.

"Well look at what the fucking cat dragged in," a new voice drawls from the doorway. I look up and see Pink being escorted by cops down the hall. "Finally decided to join the fucking party, Miss Silver? Where've you been, huh? Fucking the other cops like you fucked Orange? Bet you knew who the rat was the whole time, didn't you? Wanted to get away from all this? Well, guess what princess, this is it! This is what you fucking get for ratting on your family. Yeah, remember your family? The ones who are now dead because of you!"

"Move it, Donowitz," one of Pink's cops says, shoving him down the hall. I place my hands over my ears in a bad attempt to block out his shouting.

"Avery?" Holdaway asks from the end of the bed. I remove my hands and stare at him. "What just happened?"

"Pink walked by, and I guess he saw me, and he started shouting, and…" I finish with a shrug.

"And before that?" Holdaway asks.

"I don't know what your talking about," I tell him.

"Avery, let's make a deal. If you stay honest with me, I will let you be involved with this case," Holdaway offers. I size up Holdaway: so far he has been the only cop to constantly talk to me. But I can tell he doesn't trust me, and to be honest I don't trust him either. He hasn't answered any of my questions about anyone. But there is a chance that if I talk, he will tell me something, anything, about the rest of the group.

"I didn't know that it would be him. He was alive when I came out."

"Who?" Holdaway presses.

"Larry."

"So you knew the others would be dead?" Holdaway asks. I nod.

"Mr. Blue and Mr. Brown never came back to the warehouse. If they were alive they would have come back."

"I see. So then I am sure you know which of you are still alive?"

"Me, Mr. Pink and Freddy."

"And Vega," Holdaway adds. If time could both stand still and go at super speeds, that was what was happening to me. My mind was completely blank of everything except for one thought: I wasn't alone.

"What?! Where is he?" I ask, moving off of the bed and towards the door. I screwed up. Oh god, I screwed up. I left him, I said he was dead. I left him for dead.

"Avery, stop," Holdaway says, moving in front of the door.

"I have to see him. I have to see him!" I repeat, again and again, trying to get past him. I can't tell if I want hit Vic or hug him for still being alive.

"Avery, you need to calm down, right now."

"I need to see him!" I cry, struggling against Holdaway.

"You can't-"

"I need to know that he's alive. I need to!" I shout, clawing against Holdaway. There's a pick in my arm and everything goes fuzzy before going black.

 **A/N reviews would be wonderful :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N as usual I own the things that look unfamilar**

I flick through the book in my hand, not reading but feeling the pages pass over my fingertips.

Eddie was late, again. The school ground was nearly empty, save a few stoners lingering by the staircase. I lean against the fence, flicking through the book again. The screeching of brakes draws my attention.

"Get in loser!" Eddie shouts through the window. I glare at him and get into the car.

"Jesus, Eddie, why are you playing such godawful music?" I complain from my spot between Orange and one of Eddie's friends. I've seen him enough times to know that he can get pretty jumpy. I think he was going by Pink this time around.

"First of all, this music is legendary. Second of all, all us guys grew up on this shit so we love it. And third of all, probably most important, Mr. Blonde would fuck you up if he heard you say that," Eddie concludes, smirking.

"Well Mr. Blonde's not here, so I don't have to worry about that, unless anyone else feels the needs to 'fuck me up' for what I said," I counter, rolling my eyes at Eddie's threat. It's the same threat Joe, Eddie, and anyone who was around used on me as a child. It lost its power when I was thirteen.

"Well I feel the need to do something else to you," Pink smirks, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, that's my sister you're talking to, you piece of shit," Eddie says, glancing in the rearview mirror and grinning.

"Aw, lay off Eddie, it didn't mean anything," I say, winking at Pink.

"Yeah Eddie, it didn't mean anything," Pink says, grinning.

"Like hell it didn't," Eddie jests, pulling into a parking lot.

"This the place?" White asks from the front seat.

"This is it," Eddie agrees, getting out of the car. We all follow suit. I follow Orange into the warehouse.

"Watch where you're going," Vic says, yanking on my ponytail.

"What was that for?" I ask, hitting him with the back of my hand.

"Eddie told me that you were flirting the other night, and now I catch you staring… I thought I had taught you to have better taste."

"That's a lie, and you know it," I say. "And for your information, I have great taste. Even I wouldn't stoop that low," I add, looking at Orange and then back at Vic. "Ever."

"Cut the bullshit kid," Vic smirks.

"You're impossible," I sigh, walking away from him and towards the chalkboard at the far end of the warehouse. I sit in one of the chairs that is set up, opening up the book that's still in my hands.

"What do you have there?" Orange asks, sitting down and gesturing to the book.

" _Pet Sematary_ ," I say, showing him the cover.

"Doesn't seem like your usual type."

"And what would you call my usual type?" I ask, looking around at the group of men surrounding us. Most of them were talking in groups, mainly because most of us knew each other. Charles, who was going by Mr. Blue, was discussing something with Joe and Larry. Vic and Eddie were also talking together. Mr. Pink was leaning against one of the walls, and the last guy was looking uncomfortable, standing next to the door. I can only count three people that aren't in Joe's inner circle, and two that have never worked with us at all.

"All right gentlemen," Joe bellows. I cough. "And ladies, let's get started."

I watch as everyone files into the seats. Pink sits at my other side and Vic sits in front of me. Joe begins rambling about not being caught and Hawaii. He tells everyone their code name, and Vic cringes slightly when he hears his. Blonde. He hates it.

I grin, thinking about how he got the name. I was young, maybe seven when I realized that something weird went on in the house. Joe sat me down and explained it all and for some insane reason I wanted in. Being seven there was much I could do, but he did let me assign everyone code names for jobs. Some of them stuck longer than others.

"Now, I made reservations at Benvolio's for all of us tonight. Seven o'clock sharp. I told management to put the bill under my name but I don't need you wasting it all on booze," Joe says in a way of dismissal. Everyone starts heading towards the door and I follow.

"Hey, Miss Silver, come here," Joe growls. I turn on my heel and walk over to him.

"Yeah?" I ask. Joe waits until everyone is out of the warehouse before speaking.

"I don't want you going to Benvolio's tonight. You've got school tomorrow."

"What the hell? You just told everyone to spend tomorrow going over the plan!" I shout.

"Yeah, but I need you to stop missing school."

"I went today, that should be good enough. Oh and by the way, I saw Mr. Purple tailing me all day."

"I shouldn't have to put a tail on you, for Christ's sake, but I do."

"Come on Joe. I'm part of this team as much as any of them. Hell, I need to know them better than they need to know each other. Because if something goes wrong, which it probably will, I need to know how to calm them the fuck down."

"You're right. I'm just looking out for you. Your father didn't want this life for you, and I don't want it being messed up before you're free in a few months."

"I know Joe, and thanks, really, for everything,"

"You're alright kid," Joe declares. I follow him out to his car where Vic and Eddie are waiting. The drive back to the house is quiet.

I go up to my room and unlock the door. I throw my book onto the bed and unload my gun, placing it on my desk. I turn around and Eddie is laying on my bed and Vic is sitting on the small couch I have.

"Jesus Christ, give me a heart attack why don't you," I complain, glaring at both of them.

"We're just going to get straight to business," Vic says. "Close the door." I close the door.

"We know you like Orange," Vic says bluntly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say, walking over to the closet. I knew what they were playing at, and I wasn't going to give in this time. Eddie liked to see how well he could get in my head before a job. I have no idea why, or when, Eddie thought it would be a good idea to try to mess with me before a job, but he did. And somehow, Vic was now in on it.

"I don't blame you, he looks like he would be an easy fuck," Vic ponders.

"Gross," I comment pretending to vomit. I flick through the closet, going between wearing jeans or a skirt. Jeans, has to be jeans. This group of guys had one too many sleezes.

"You know Eddie, I think your sister needs to get laid," Vic says offhandedly.

"I do not!" I shriek, turning around. I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.

"I'm going to have to agree with you on this," Eddie agrees. "You've been very tense lately," he says matter of factly.

"I have not been _tense_ ," I hiss.

"Well even if you _were_ trying to get laid, it wouldn't ever happen in that," Blonde says, gesturing to the clothes in my hand.

"Well if you're so wise, why don't _you_ pick something out?" I ask, throwing my clothes at him and sitting down in the desk chair. Vic swaggers over to my closet, lighting up a cigarette as he goes.

"Why Orange?" Eddie asks.

"For fucksake, I do not like Orange."

"You sure? Because you too were getting pretty friendly in the car, and then again in the warehouse."

"Oh my god. You act like you've never seen two people be friends. Oh thats right, you both fuck anything that will look at you, without even checking to see if it's alive or not."

"Those are fightin' words, you sure you don't want to take them back?" Eddie asks.

"Oh, I'm positive." I smirk. "And you know why?"

"Why?" Eddie asks.

"You would never actually fight me. You know I would win," I grin.

"Found something, if you're done acting like a child," Vic states, stepping away from the closet.

"What did you find?" I asks, sitting up. Vic doesn't reply, but insteads holds up a dark blue dress: tight at the top and flare below the waist, ending just above my knees.

"No way in hell," I say, crossing my arms.

"And why the fuck not?" Eddie asks.

"There's no way I could be protected in that. There's absolutely no place for me to have any weapons on me. Not even a knife. No way."

"We would protect you," Eddie offers. I scoff at this.

"Eddie, you can't shoot for shit."

"Come on Avery, it's not like you'll need any weapons, it's a dinner," Vic says. "And plus, it would look great on you."

"Hypocrite. We all know you're gonna walk in there with three different kinds of weapons."

"It would make Orange want to fuck you," Vic says. I groan.

"Just get out of my room. I need to shower," I say, pointing at the door. Neither of them move. "Get out, goddammit!"

"Jesus, we're going," Eddie says, leaving the room. Vic gives me a look before following Eddie. What the look meant, I have no idea. I put on a Red Hot Chilli Peppers CD and get in the shower. I wrap my hair in a towel and look at the dress Vic had picked. He was right, it would

look great. Too bad he will never have the satisfaction of knowing that. I smirk, pulling on the clothes I had originally thrown at him. I add some light make up and straighten my hair. I grab my knife and slip it into my pocket as well as a pair of heels which I carry downstairs with me.

"Where is everyone?" I ask Joe.

"They left," he grunts not looking up.

"What about Mr. Purple?" I ask. Mr. Purple normally drives me places so I don't have to drive. It's not that I'm a bad driver, I just don't like it.

"Out on business."

"Oh," I say, "Well, can I have the car keys?"

Without looking up, Joe tosses a set of keys at me. I pocket them and set about getting my shoes on.

"Bye Joe," I call over my shoulder.

"Be careful," Joe adds just as the door closes behind me. I make my way over to the garage, wondering exactly where the car I have the keys to is. I finally find it after walking past the four other cars in the garage. I drive down the driveway, flipping through radio channels, looking for music that doesn't suck.

The drive to Benvolio's takes nearly twenty minutes in the Los Angeles traffic. I park nearly two blocks away from the restaurant, just in case. I walk in, past the hostess, and go straight into the back room. Charles, Larry, Mr. Brown and Mr. Pink are already there. I sit down to the right of Larry.

"You okay kid? You look pissed," Larry says.

"I had to drive here," I huff.

"That's tough luck. I thought Eddie or Mr. Blonde were going to drive you."

"Yeah, I thought so to, but when I got downstairs, it was a ghost town. No one but Joe," I say. Mr. Brown gives us a weird look, but I shrug it off. Most of the new guys don't get the relationship that there is between most of us.

"You still having problem driving, hun?" Charles asks from the other side of Larry.

"I don't have problems driving, I just don't like driving," I explain.

"It's always the same with chicks, shouldn't be allowed on the road," Mr. Pink says to Mr. Brown.

"Is that so?" I ask, leaning back in the chair, sending a cold glare at Pink.

"Oh, looks we have ourselves a feminist," Pink jeers.

"Oh, look, we have ourselves an asshole," I shoot back, acting surprised.

"Now, come on kids, let's stop bickering," Vic says, approaching the table. I sigh, rolling my eyes. Let the night begin.

 **A/N reviews would be nice, say what you love, you hate, anything your feeling**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N this one is short and sweet, but we are getting closer to the fun stuff . As per usual, I don't one anything**

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Jesus, why do I have such an annoying clock? I sit up and notice two things: one, I'm not in my room; and two, it's not my clock. There's no guard in the room, so I slip out of the bed and head towards the doorway. The hallway is also empty. I pad down the hallway, the soles of my feet making a quiet slapping sound. I'm going to need to find out what happened to my shoes.

I peek into every room, looking for Vic. After what feels like hundreds of room, I find him, sitting in a bed, staring at the door.

"You're alive," I breathe, moving closer to him.

"Am I? Can you be sure of that?" Vic deadpans, and then winces.

"Are you okay?" I ask, moving even closer. Just by looking at him I can tell that he's not. I can tell by the way he's sitting that his chest has been heavily bandaged, and most likely it hurts to breathe.

"I'm just peachy. Got seven fucking holes in my chest, but I'm just peachy," Vic growls. I take a step back, unsure of what he's going to do. "Fuck. Avery - the past few days have been hell, I'm sure you've been through hell, come here," Vic says in apology. I go over to him and he wraps his arms around me in a hug. I move so that I am sitting on the end of his bed, with my arms wrapped around my knees.

"Well, it hasn't been easy," I agree.

"So where's Eddie and Joe? It's not like them to hold out on me like this," Vic jokes.

"They're busy," I lie, looking down.

"Busy? Busy doing what?"

"Working with Mr. Purple to get us out of this hospital and down to Hawaii," I tell him, turning the hospital bracelet on my wrist over and over again. It would be true, if they were alive.

"So why are you here?" Vic asks.

"Well, I was hit in the head by a freakin' gas can," I snap, glaring at him. Truth be told, I probably should have been in the hospital, at least for concussion checks, but the police seemed to forget that.

"So what happened? How did we all end up arrested?" Vic asks.

"I don't think we should be talking about that here," I say, glancing back at the door.

"And why the fuck not?"

"I-I can't," I whisper.

"You can't or you won't, Avery? I know you're hiding something from me." I shake my head, tears falling onto the hospital blanket.

"Avery, I saw Orange coming out of your room that night. Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you in any way? Because I swear to god, I will murder him if he did-"

"Vic!" I gasp. "He didn't do anything like that, that's not what happened-"

"Then. What. Happened," Vic growls.

"We did nothing, alright? Where the hell is this even coming from?! You have no idea what happened. And the truth of what did happen is going to stay between me and Freddy."

"Avery, if he hurt you…"

"Freddy wouldn't hurt me," I say confidently.

"Are you sure? Because from what I've seen he has no problem hurting people; he shot me seven fucking times."

"You knocked me out with a fucking gas can," I argue.

"That was different, I didn't kill you."

"You could have. And from what Larry said, it sounded like you went insane in the store."

" _We have a Code Amber in the Kennedy High Security Ward. I repeat Code Amber in the Kennedy High Security Ward_ ," a voice rings throughout the room and the hallway. I stare at Vic, debating my options: if I leave, Vic won't get in trouble; if I stay, I can know what will happen, to both of us.

"I should go," I say at the same time Vic says "Stay."

"Vic, I can't."

"Avery, please."

"If they find me here, it won't be good, for either of us..." I trail off, looking at the door behind me.

"The hell with that, we're already in custody, what more can they do?" Vic shouts. I shake my head, getting off of the bed and walking towards the door.

"I'm sorry, I can't," I say, walking out the door. I look behind me, and Vic is sitting their looking at me with a look that can only be described as a kid learning that his family wasn't going to come back.

I walk down the hall, turning in the opposite direction of my room. I find a chair and sit down to wait for someone to find me.

 **A/N and there we go, leave your thoughts down below :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N as usual I don't own anything you recognize**

"You sure you don't want any?" Vic asks, waving a bag of greasy fast food in front of my face.

"Vic, don't, I might be sick," I groan, leaning away from him. Eddie snickers from the driver's seat, pulling out the parking lot.

"Are you sure?" Vic pesters again, this time nearly shoving a hamburger in my face.

"You're a dick," I say, glaring at him from behind my sunglasses.

"I think what you need is some music," Eddie grins, turning on the radio and cranking up the volume. The throbbing in my head intensifies immediately, changing from the dull thud it had settled into all morning into a faster, sharper pain hitting every time I blinked. I close my eyes to the pain, focusing on not being sick.

"You don't look so good Av's," Eddie comments.

"No shit, Sherlock," I mutter.

"You realize this is your fault though," Vic adds.

"And what the fuck is that suppose to mean?" I snap glaring at both of them. I notice we are parked on a street across from a row of businesses.

"How many drinks did you even have last night?" Vic asks.

"I don't know. Mr. White got me what he always does, and than I think Mr. Pink got me another drink and it was like ten times stronger, and…" I trail, off trying to remember the rest of the night. I manage to piece together that Mr. Pink was trying to get me alone and that Mr. Orange and I left the restaurant together and that's where everything goes fuzzy. Fuck. What happened?

"Av, first, you need to stop accepting random drinks from people; and second, you seriously need to stop being a fucking lightweight," Eddie grins.

"Oh shut up."

"He's, right you know. If you weren't such a lightweight you would be fine right now, nearly everyone there drank twice as much as you did and everyone is fine."

"For christ's sake, just layoff. It was a bad move, a mistake. Things happen." I was not in the mood for a lecture today, but obviously the two dimwits in front of me didn't understand that.

"Do you not understand how important this job is? Obviously not if you think that things just happen. Things don't just happen. We don't know all the guys on this job, we don't know if one of them is going to snap and shoot up the store or go crazy while at the warehouse. You can't assume everything is going to be alright. Dammit, Avery."

"I can't help it if someone goes crazy in the store. We both know that. But I've dealt with most of these guys before, I know how to handle them. I don't know why everyone is so jumpy about

this."

"Just try not to do anything stupid. I need you two," Eddie says, gesturing to me and Vic, "To keep your heads up and make sure nothing gets seriously fucked up."

"I know," I sigh. It was always about making sure no one fucked up, but no one ever gives a decent definition of what that means. I guess it depends on what your job is, if you fucked up or not. If the people of the store played hero and fought against Vic, I guess he fucked up. But that being said, nearly every job that has happened has been fucked someway or another. The worst thing that could happen would be if someone was a cop, but then again, Joe would shoot the guy straight in the face if there was a rat. Mr. Brown might be a rat; I know he's new this job, just a get away man. I'll have to ask Eddie, or maybe Larry about him later.

"Which hotel are we going to tonight?" Vic's question brings me out of my own head.

"We haven't done that in forever," I say at the same time Eddie names one of Joe's favorite hotels.

"Daddy wants to get an early start tomorrow." Eddie shrugs and then adds, "And don't try to fight this Av's, I know you don't like it, but it's what Daddy wants."

I sigh, biting my tongue. I wasn't planning on fighting this, and Eddie knew that.

"What time are we meeting?" I asks.

"Why, you got somewhere to be?" Vic asks.

"I.." I pause. Normally I would go to the comic book store to see comic book store guy, but now that guy is Mr. Orange. Total plan killer. "No, just wondering," I finish dejectedly.

"Then stop asking questions already," Vic says, flicking his cigarette butt out the window.

 **A/N Hey guys. So this is now chapter five, and I hate to do this, but reviews maybe? Please. It's hard to upload chapter after chapter not knowing if anyone is actually reading and liking, or hating. It will take less than a minute to leave just one small review. And I honestly hate begging like this, but I can't see myself uploading anymore without some type of response. -L**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N I have to start by saying I really like the beginning of this chapter. This is also where the story picks up. As per usual I don't own anything you recognize.**

 _Bang. Freddy falls back against the ramp._

 _Bang. Joe falls backwards onto the concrete._

 _Bang. Larry stumbles, falling to his knees._

 _Bang. Eddie flies backwards into the concrete._

 _I stand up walking over to Freddy. As I past Eddie, a hand grabs my leg. His hand grabs my leg. He looks up at me, eyes a dull milky white, crimson staining his windbreaker, his lips a cold blue._

 _"This is your fault," he whispers, his voice hoarse and strained. I try to move away, but his grip is like cold steel, keeping me still._

 _Another hand grips my other leg. I look to see Mr. Blue gripping my leg. His hair is matted with blood; the bullet hole is nowhere to be seen from the front._

 _"I'm dead because of you," he says, his nails digging into my leg._

 _Another hand, this time wrapping around my wrist. I try to shake it, looking to see who had me. Joe's hand is wrapped around my wrist in the same manner as when I was little and he was keeping me from running into traffic. His expression mirrors Eddies, with milky eyes and blue lips._

 _"I told you, and you messed it up," he says pulling on me._

 _Another hand wraps around my arm. I know the hand without even looking. I couldn't look. A sharp tug bring my eyes to meet his. Larry doesn't say anything, telling me everything I did wrong with his eyes._

 _Another hand. This one pulling at the material of my t-shirt, threatening to bring me down. Mr. Brown continues pulling and pulling, his face covered in blood, unreadable._

 _"You caused this, all of this," he chokes, spitting blood out of his mouth and spraying me with every word._

 _A pair of hands grip my shoulder, pushing me down into the group of hands surrounding me. I fall into the group, each of them pulling and scratching._

 _"You deserve this," Vic says, standing above me as they continued pulling and crushing. He joins the group with his razor in hand._

 _I'm drowning. I shut my eyes knowing this is the end._

 _"Look at me. Look at me Avery. Look at what you did!" Freddy shouts._

"Avery!" A voice shouts. Hands grip my shoulders, shaking them. "Avery!"

I open my eyes to see Vic standing over me, gripping my shoulders. I kick out, freeing myself from him and run into the bathroom, locking the door. I look around for anything to protect myself with from the zombified Vic in my room. I curse, watching the door handle jingle, and then the door pops open.

"What the fuck Avery?" Vic asks.

"Don't come any closer," I warn, tightening my grip on the hair straighter in my hand.

"'m not going to hurt you," He says stepping forward.

"Prove it," I say. He raises his hands slowly, palms facing me.

"Avery, what happened?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," I counter quickly.

"Avery, you can't lie." Vic says, taking another step closer. "You're shaking."

"I'm…" I start, and then stop. I was far from okay. I slump against the countertop, letting the straightener fall to the ground. "You're right. I can't lie. I should have told you, I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," I cry, wiping away tears with the back of my hand.

"Just calm down and explain," Vic says, leaning against the wall across from me.

"I'm sorry, please don't hate me," I start, speaking barely above a whisper. "It went bad, very bad. Mr. Blue and Mr. Brown were dead before you got to the warehouse."

"Sometimes a few guys got to die, you know this," he shrugs.

"Then at the warehouse, there was a standoff, and.." I trail off, avoiding Vics gaze.

"And-? What happened? Did your fucktoy get shot in the face? If so I would like to congratulate whoever did it."

"Well that's not going to happen, because that person is dead!" I snap.

"Who?" Vic asks calmly. Anyone off the street would think he was asking something as simple as who was on the phone, but if you looked closer you could see something building up behind his eyes. I shake my head no, I couldn't do that to him. If he knew it would destroy him. "Tell me who, Avery!"

"Larry, and Joe, and Eddie. All of them. They're all dead," I whisper. Vic slams his fist into the wall next to him, leaving a hole. He stalks out of the bathroom, leaving a muttered string of expletives behind him. I follow his trail of shouts and bangs through my room, downstairs and into Joe's office where I find him tearing through desk drawers and filing cabinets.

"What are you doing?" I ask, watching him flick through papers.

"We need to get out of here. We have maybe an hour before the cops are checking here for me. You need to come with me," Vic says, abandoning the papers and walking over to my side of the desk.

"Vic, I can't," I whisper, refusing to look at him.

"And why not?" he asks. I bite my tongue, still looking away from him. "Avery, what do you know? Is anyone else still alive? Answer me." I sigh, resolving to give limited answers.

"Yes, people are still alive."

"There was a rat, wasn't there? Who was it?" I shrug. "Couldn't have been Pink, he was to jumpy. Both of us are here right now. Orange isn't. Everyone else is dead. Was it Orange?"

"No-"

"Goddamit. I will kill that low life lying rat. I will kill him." Vic whispers, his face darkening into something I have never seen before.

"Don't. Vic you can't." He takes a step closer to me, now towering over me. "I mean- it wouldn't be smart- you know- you need need to lay low- and uh-" I stammer.

"And how exactly do you know all of this? Because it seems to me, you know a lot of things you're not telling me. So tell me, how do you know who's dead and who's alive? Because I remember Joe and telling you, that if anything happens, you're suppose to get out of the country and into Canada as fast as possible. And if I recall, everyone dying counts as something happening."

"I tried. I went outside, and the cops were already there. They were already had me in cuffs before I was even two feet away from the door. I was down in an interrogation room for nearly two days. And then I when I got out, I couldn't just leave, I didn't know where anyone was. And then at a diner, I saw the paper, saying that Joe- Joe was dead. I panicked. And some people brought me to the hospital. You know this," I say, hoping that Vic would accept this half-truth. He couldn't know about Freddy and the other cops.

"Stop lying to me!" Vic shouts. He grabs my forearms, easily wrapping his entire hand around my arm, and pulls me closer to him. "How do you know all of this?"

"You- you don't want to know." His grip tightens to being almost unbearable. I let out a gasp of pain, struggling to free myself. This wasn't right. This was far from right. Vic didn't act like this. Vic was chill, and collected, and distant. This wasn't the Vic I knew, this was the Mr. Blonde Larry and Mr. Pink were shouting about. This was the Mr. Blonde that shot up the store, and tortured the cop.

"I'm feeling nice today, so I will give you one more chance to tell me what really happened, or I might end up doing something we both will regret."

"It was the cops!" I shout in his face, "They told me everything! They took me to the fucking morgue and made me identify everyone! And you know what? I answered every single one of their fucking questions too! I told everything I knew to Freddy and Holdaway and McCluskey and every other fucking cop that talked to me!"

Vic takes a step back, and then another, backing into the desk. I break away from his grip, turning and running down the hallway. I hear him coming after me as I struggle with the locks on the front door, tears blurring my vision. I burst onto the front lawn, running across it onto the street. I keep running, ignoring the sharp pricks of the pavement against the soles of my feet as I run. I'm listening for anything that tells me that he's behind me. I turn and see headlights behind me, moving at a speed that's anything but legal. I duck into the shadows, waiting for the car to pass. It screeches past, and I allow myself to exhale.

And then the headlights are back, zooming down the street towards me. I curse, dashing down a small side street. I reach the middle of the street, which is cut off with a chain link fence. I look back and see a figure standing at the end of the alley. I start climbing without thinking. When I get over the top, the edge of my shorts get caught, trapping me there. I curse again, pulling at the fence. It releases me, leaving long angry scratches down my leg and letting me fall the eight feet onto the rough pavement below. _Pop_. White hot pain tears through my left arm, starting in my shoulder, racing down to my fingertips and back up. I muffle my cries by biting down on the palm of my hand. I know it's dislocated. I know I probably shouldn't try to pop it back in now. I need to wait out the initial pan.

I wait, black spots dancing across my vision, growing bigger and faster as the seconds progress. I focus on breathing and willing myself to pass out, but luck is not on my side.

 **A/N Thank you ToothpickVicChic for your lovely review. Comments, questions, and criticism are always appreciated.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N a couple of disclaimers this chapter. Disclaimer #1: I recently lost my beta, so don't hate if the spelling and grammar falls apart. My beta had read through and beta'd this entire story once (and yes that means the whole thing is written, and the more you review the sooner the chapters go up), however I may change small things, and therefore there could be a few slip ups. Don't hate me. Disclaimer #2: I only own the things, concepts, people you don't recognize. Disclaimer #3: This is a** **realllllly** **fluffy chapter.**

 _Knock Knock_

"Come in," I say, not looking up from the math problem I'm working on.

"Hi, um, hey," Mr. Orange says, leaning against the doorframe.

"Hi-um-hey yourself," I say, smiling at him. "Whats up?"

"You didn't come down to the poker game, and, I was wondering what was up?" he says awkwardly. I grin.

"Well to be completely honest, I suck at poker, and I didn't really want to get drunk the night before. Plus, there's the joys of transformations of functions," I add, motioning to the papers in front of me.

"Can I?" he asks, picking up the packet I am working on. He sits down next to me looking over the packet. "What is this, like, Calculus?"

"Pre-calc," I say, blushing. "I had to retake algebra two last year."

"So that makes you a… ?" he asks, leaving the end of the question open.

"Senior," I finish, watching his face cloud in confusion. He shakes his head, turning back to the packet.

"You see here," he says, pointing at the problem, "When you have multiplication to the x, you actually multiply all of the x values by the reciprocal. So where it is 2x you would actually multiple the x values by ½."

"Oh, right," I say, looking at the paper.

"You're still lost?"

"Yeah, I just don't get any of this. Like why does it matter if some stupid lines are moving one way or another?"

"Well," he starts, leaning back against the headboard. "It really doesn't. Like it does, short term, but honestly, it doesn't. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, doesn't make it suck any less."

"You couldn't be more right about that," he laughs.

"So why aren't you at the poker game?"

"I'm out already. Your brother plays a mean game."

"Eddie? Eddie can't play for shit."

"I thought you and Mr. Blonde were siblings?"

"Me and Vic- fuck. You didn't hear that," I say, giving him a glare. He quirks an eyebrow, amusement spreading across his face. "Me and Mr. Blonde are not siblings. Don't get me wrong, I consider him my brother and everything."

"So then it's one big happy family? You, Eddie, and Joe?"

"Sunday night dinners, family game nights, the whole nine yards." I smirk.

"Really?" he probes.

"Honestly? It sucks."

"I can imagine," he says, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. "You want one?"

"Oh, no, I don't smoke."

"Yet another another surprise," he says, lighting the cigarette and bringing it to his lips.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask.

"Oh, nothing you need to worry about," he chuckles.

"Jerk," I mutter, turning back to the forgotten textbook.

"So, Joe never mentioned what you're going to be doing tomorrow," he starts. I sigh, turning around to look at him.

"It doesn't matter, honestly. If all goes well, I won't have to do anything," I reply. Joe doesn't like the guys knowing that there's a medic waiting, because then they think that they are all going to die.

"I mean, I think it does matter; if you're part of this it, must be for something important."

"Honestly, it's not important," I shrug.

"I don't believe that," he declares after a pause.

"And why not?" I ask, turning around to face him.

"Because if it wasn't important you would have told me."

"You got me," I surrender, going back to my book.

"So are you going to tell me?" he asks. I glance up and he is watching me with curious eyes.

"We don't- I don't normally tell guys. It gets them freaked out. Like seriously freaked out. And especially the night before, they act like I jinxed them," I ramble.

"Trust me Silver Surfer, I think I can handle it."

"Okay," I agree. I take a deep breathe, thinking about how I was going to word this nicely. "I um, I'm there for the aftermaths, the same way Joe deals with you guys before, and Eddie is there while everything is happening; I'm there for the end."

"So what, do you make travel plans then?" he asks.

"No, I don't make the fucking travel plans," I snap. I take a moment to collect myself before continuing "Joe had me learn... things."

"What type of things?"

"You really don't want to know."

"Oh, so we're back to this whole thing. For christ's sake, just tell me what you do."

"Fine, you want to know so badly? I'm there in case any of you get shot or shoot each other. I can keep any of you sorry lowlives alive long enough to get you on a plane and out of the states."

"And does this happen often, guys being shot?"

"Nearly every single fucking time. I don't know what has happened, but in the past year the cops have gotten good, and I mean real good. Someone comes back tagged every goddamn time, that is if they aren't already dead on site."

"Well shit."

"See, I knew you would say that!" I exclaim, getting off of the bed and pacing the small room. "This is why I don't tell you guys. You all say that, and get that look on your face. And you get scared. And that's exactly what you don't need. You can't be scared going in there because then something will go bad. And once something goes bad, more things go bad. And that can't happen!" My pacing is stopped by him standing in front of me and grabbing me by the shoulders.

"Silver, you need to stop, and take a deep breath," he says. I follow his instructions, taking one breath after another. "I'm not worried."

"How can you not be?!" I ask, breaking away from him. "You are about to risk your life, and do an insane stupid job, for what, a few thousand bucks? Trust me, it's not worth it, ever. None of this is worth it. And I can tell this is your first time. Don't you dare try to tell me it isn't because I've seen you every week at that comic book store, and you're not this. You're so much better than stooping this low. How can you not be worried? How?" I ask feeling tears prick up behind my eyes. I don't know why I care so much what he thought, but for some reason he's not like the other guys I've seen on jobs.

"Listen to me," he says, pulling me towards the bed. He takes back his post against the headboard while I sit crossed legged at the end. "You see this?" he asks, pulling off the wedding band that was on his finger. I nod. "My fiance and I got them this Christmas. We realized we couldn't stay, if we wanted to get married. I told him I would find a way to get us to Amsterdam. Things are better over there, less judgement. And well, when Joe rang up, I knew that I could do this, and save him and myself from this hell."

"What's his name?" I ask. I was slightly surprised, but it wasn't like it was unheard of.

"Adam," he says, a ghost of a smile flickering across his features.

"You must really love him," I say, seeing the way he lights up talking about Adam.

"Yeah," he sighs lighting another cigarette. "What about you?"

"What about me?" I ask, confused.

"You're cute enough, you have anyone hanging around?"

"Oh. No. It's pretty hard to bring a guy home to Joe."

"Who said you stayed the night at your place with them?" He winks. I splutter out a few mumbled words, feeling the blood rush up my cheeks. "Ah, still a virgin I see."

"Am not," I argue, trying to regain some dignity.

"Silver, has anyone told you you can't lie?"

"Every single day," I sigh, thinking of Vic and Eddie accusing me of falling for the guy in front of me. We fall into a silence; I return to my textbook for what seems like the tenth time, and he continues smoking, the familiar scent blanketing the room.

"Question?" I ask, giving up on the textbook after ten minutes of letters and numbers dancing around the pages.

"Shoot."

"So, like, if everyone was a dog, like all different breeds, what do you think everyone would be?" I ask.

"Where is this coming from?"

"I don't know," I shrug, "but what do you think?"

"Let me see… you're definitely a Jack Russell Terrier." He smirks.

"Okay okay, could be worse. But if I'm a terrier, you're a golden retriever."

"And why would u say that?" he asks, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

"The hair," I say, gesturing to his hair that was falling over his forehead.

"Well, Larry- fuck!" I swear loudly. He just smirks. "Mr. White is an English bulldog, no question about it. "

"Okay, Mr. Pink is a Pitbull; lots of bark, but no bite."

"Fair enough. You know what, I think Mr. Blues a schnauzer, with a the moustache and everything," I add, barely containing my laughter.

"Eddies a pug."

"No way," I argue, "He's totally a chihuahua."

"How could you say that, the pug in him is so obvious."

"I mean, first of all your wrong, second of all he's a chihuahua. All he does is yammer on and on, but he's not a real threat to anything. Couldn't even kill a housefly if his life depended on it. At least a pug is cute. Chihuahuas look like devil rats."

"Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?" he asks between wheezes of laughter.

"You can't honestly believe Eddie is attractive in any way?"

"Well, no," he agrees.

"Well then, who do you think is hot? Like out of this crayon box." I grin as he sighs, slouching into the bed even more, exasperation clear across his face.

"Damn, gotta actually think now." He takes a final drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out.

"Or easier question, who isn't?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow.

"Soul patches are gross. So that rules out Mr. Brown and Mr. Pink, plus Mr. Pink is just down right annoying. Mr. Blue and Joe and both too old. But Eddie is the worst out out all of them."

"So that leaves Blonde, White and me, of course," I add with a hair flip.

"Mr. Blonde and Mr. White both have their charms. And trust me, if I was straight and you were a bit older, we wouldn't be talking right now," he adds with a wolfish grin.

"Oh really?" I ask, smirking.

"Hey, I'm out of the game and Daddy wanted me to tell you that we're leaving here at nine- Oh, Mr. Orange you're here…?" Eddie asks.

"Don't you start," I threaten, getting off of the bed and crossing over to him.

"Calm down, I'm not looking for trouble," Eddie says, backing out of the room, "Just make sure to use protection," he adds before slamming the door. I groan, sliding against the wall onto the floor.

"What are you laughing at?" I ask, rolling onto my stomach and propping myself up on my elbows. He just continues laughing, nearly throwing himself off of the bed. "This isn't funny." I insist.

"You're just so…" He finishes by gesturing at me.

"What does that even mean?" I ask exasperated, but he just starts laughing again. "Forget I even asked," I grumble, sitting in the arm chair in the corner of the room.

Eddie coming into the room reminded me of what was going to happen tomorrow. There was most likely a rat, I had determined that much, but I couldn't pinpoint who. There would definitely be blood, that was nearly a given by now. I sigh, thinking of the jeans and white shirt I had with me; wishful thinking, I guess. There would be a lot of shouting as well: this box was too high strung to prevent fighting.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, bringing me out of my head.

"Oh. Just thinking. About stuff." I shrug.

"You looked worried, do you want to talk?"

"I guess," I start, biting my lip. "I guess I am worried. I have a very bad feeling about tomorrow. And I shouldn't be spilling all of this to you, but I seriously doubt any success in all of this. The past months the cops have been faster and faster, and these guys haven't been as lucky. And to add to all of that I'm willing to bet anything that there's a rat. I know it, I don't know how, but I can just tell. I guess I'm just worried about everything this time," I sigh.

"I wouldn't worry yourself sick. No matter what happens, you will just have to remember that it could be worse."

"Yeah, that's one way of looking at it," I agree.

"The best thing would be for you to sleep."

"Hmm, probably." I grin, looking at the clock. It's half past one, which means that everything would be done and over in less than twelve hours.

"You get some rest, alright?" he says, walking over to the door. I follow him, planning on locking the door when he leaves. I don't need anymore visitors until nine in the morning. "And try not to worry so much Avery, you're just going to stress yourself out even more."

I glare at him, confused on how he learned by name.

"It was on your homework," he explains.

"Oh, well goodnight…" I trail off.

"Freddy," he adds, before slipping out the door.

 **A/N Helllllooooooo, as always review review review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N As per usual I don't own anything you recognize.**

"Avery, Avery, Avery - didn't Joe ever tell you to not to run from your problems?" Vic teases towering above me. I focus on breathing, making sure I don't move my arm that's still throbbing. "Tsk, tsk, I thought we had taught you to be more polite to adults. And especially not to lie to them."

I see his blade flash under the shaky glow of the streetlights. It's the same one that he used on that cop. I am going to die. He is going to kill me.

I start sobbing, nothing can help me now. Vic grins even more menacingly, enjoying my distress. Fuck.I look around me, trying to find anything that can give me a last fight. I try to focus on my surroundings, but all I can see his Vic moving closer, his lips moving in some typical monologue. I almost laugh at how surreal this is. I feel like I have seen him do this at least a hundred times, but never from this perspective.

I feel something round and cold against my leg. A bottle. Glass. I make a grab for it, shattering it in the process. Vic is nearly on top of me, his blade poised and ready. I bring the shards of glass up in front of me just as he brings his blade down. I shut my eyes as I brance preparing for pain.

Nothing.

I open my eyes to see Vic fall onto the pavement, my glass shard deep into his neck. I cry out, watching Vic's chest slow until it doesn't rise again. I grab the fence pulling myself up until I am standing above him.

I have to leave. I know I have to leave. I stumble slowly out of the ally, bracing myself against the walls of the building. On the main road, the rising sun blinds me. The sky is a soft orange with pink clouds. Pink. Orange. Freddy.

I look down the street, and then turn right. I need to get to Freddy. I stumble down the road for what feels like an eternity, cradling my arm as every steps sends a new wave of pain throughout my body.

The lobby of the hospital is empty. I glance at a clock above the nurses station. Six in the morning, changing of the shifts. I continue down the hallway, relying on sheer luck to bring me to Freddy's room. If he is even here.

This is stupid. He won't be here. This is the biggest hospital in L.A. and there was no way I'll happen upon him. I change my plans. The morgue. I can make it to the morgue, and then by the time anyone will find me, I will be dead, with everyone else. I continue down the hallway, pausing every few feet to make sure I don't fall over.

And then I hear it: his laugh and sarcastic tones. I fall into the room, nearly stumbling into a cop standing by the door. And the room goes silent.

"I killed him," I sob into the quiet room, looking directly at Freddy.

The room ignites into actions. Freddy is attempting to get out of the hospital bed he is in, and Holdaway and another cop are forcing him down. Shit, Holdaway is going to be mad. More cops are pulling me one way and another, until one grabs my arm and the pain becomes unbearable.

"STOP IT!" Freddy shouts, stilling the room. "Everyone stop for just one goddamn minute! Now Avery, come here." I move forward into the room of cops until I am standing next to Freddy and Holdaway. "What happened?"

"I-I…" I pause, fully realizing what I did. "I killed Vic." I say, brushing tears, and surprisingly blood off of my face.

"Where?" Holdaway asks.

"I don't know, it was in an ally."

"Where? What can you say about it? Do you remember anything?" Holdaway asks again, grabbing my arm. I wince, cradling my arm closer to my chest.

"I don't know. There was a fence and- I don't know." Freddy exhales sharply.

"Holdaway, you take the boys and go see what you can find," Freddy says calmly, "and get a nurse in here for her," he adds.

"I'm leaving Anderson and Rosen with you," Holdaway says.

"No way, not happening."

"Newendyke, I'm not leaving the two of you here, alone," Holdaway argues.

"Trust me on this one," Freddy says.

"Alright. Rosen, McCluskey, Wittle, and Harple, you will go out and check around here going outwards. Anderson, Boreman, Jennings and I will start around her house. Radio if you find anything," Holdaway commands. All of the cops exit the room until it is just me Freddy and Holdaway.

"Dont worry, I got this." Freddy grins.

"Don't cause those nurses too much trouble now," Holdaway warns before leaving.

"Avery, are you okay? What hurts?" Freddy asks softly.

"My arm," I say, pausing to see what else hurts. I start at my feet, fine. The upper part of my left leg had blood covering it. My ribs ache, but they aren't broken. "My arm is dislocated. My leg, it needs stitches. I think I might have a concussion, I'm not sure. I probably shouldn't sleep just in case," I say, feeling my heart beating in my ears.

"Avery, Avery, calm down. Okay. Just focus on breathing okay? Avery just breathe."

I follow his instructions trying to match my breaths to his.

"Good, that's good. Now Avery, there are some nurses here. They are going to take you into another room and-"

"No!" I shout. "No, I'm not going. I don't need the nurses. I'm not going."

"Detective, we need to move her into a room," a nurse says.

"Kathy, she's not going to move. So you can either help her here, which is what I'm sure everyone would prefer, or you can give her a med kit and I'm positive she will start patching herself up."

"Alright, I'll go get some things and I'll be right back. Make sure she doesn't move," the nurse adds before leaving.

"Avery, you still okay? The nurses will be here and then we can talk okay? Avery?"

"Yeah?" I ask quietly, exhaustion taking over. Freddy starts talking again, but I can't follow what he's saying. All I can think about is Vic. Vic yelling at me in the office. Vic chasing me out of the house. Vic walking towards me, and then towering above me. Vic grinning as he held his knife above me. Vic laying face up, glass coming out of his neck. Vic.

"Avery." Freddy's voice breaks me out of my thoughts. "Avery, what's wrong? Does it still hurt? You're crying, what's wrong?"

"I killed him," I whisper. The nurses have left again, this time for good. My arm is in a sling and there are stitches along my leg. I had been moved onto a chair next to his bed. "I didn't mean to. He was going to kill me, I think. He- he had his blade out, just like the cop."

"Avery, shhhs, you don't have to talk about it," Freddy says.

"I thought I could do it, you know? I thought I would be able to make it until June without doing that. It wasn't what I wanted to do, but then again what I want never really mattered."

"Avery, what are you talking about?"

"Vic. Killing. It wasn't my job. That what everyone else worried about, but not me."

"That was your first...?" Freddy trails off. I nodded.

"I thought that you had..." Freddy trailed off again.

"It was Joe's idea," I start. "If I didn't actually do anything illegal, and for some reason was caught, everything I did would be seen as Joe forcing me to do it. But that's fucked now. I'm seventeen, basically eighteen. That means trial as an adult. And that means jail time no matter what. And with it just being me and Pink, the charges for the whole heist will be split. Jurors will see Cabot as my name and the prosecutors will make an impossible case against me, and I will get more time for everything Joe has done. And then-"

"Avery..."

"You don't understand! I did this to myself. This wouldn't be happening if I just let him kill me!" I shout.

"Avery don't say that."

"Why the hell shouldn't I? It's true! What am I doing, pretending that I am some victim of circumstance or whatever you are going to say?! It's not true! I was a part of this as much as Eddie or Joe or anybody! I should be in a fucking cell somewhere, not casually sitting around in hospitals like everything's just dandy!"

"Is that what you want? Is that what you actually think you deserve?" Freddy challenges.

"Yeah, I guess I do!" I snap back at him. "It's the only thing you can do with me. You can take all the information you want from me and then just throw me in a cell for the rest of my life, I wouldn't complain."

"We don't just want to use you. How could you even think that?" Freddy asks, worry obvious across his face.

"You seemed perfectly fine just getting easy information out of me that night in the hotel! Was anything you told me true?! Or did you just sit there and lie to me?!"

"Okay, so I wasn't perfectly honest-"

"You can say that again! You're a fucking cop! What else did you leave out?" I ask, glaring at him.

"Well the ring is real. But me and Adam split after college, but there was a plan to go to Amsterdam at one point."

"Oh," I say, speechless.

"But what happens, happens. There's always more guys, you know? That's the great thing, no matter what there's always something around the corner."

"I'm sorry," I apologize, dropping my eyes to stare at the floor. He was right, there was always something around the corner, but it wasn't always something good. For him it meant life spent behind a desk. For me, rough female prison.

"Oh no, don't worry about it, that was years ago." Freddy shrugs.

"No, I'm sorry. You are here, in the hospital, and it's my fault." I say. And I know it's true. I should never have left him when everyone came into the warehouse. I could have blocked him from everything. I could have taken the bullet. I should have taken the bullet.

"Avery, I chose to be an undercover cop. I chose to take this case. What happened to me, those were because of my decisions. I would be dead. I know that I should have bled out. Honestly, I should be apologizing to you."

"Why?"

"Your dad and your brother are dead. You're an orphan now. It's my fault really. It was a shitty cover story with too many holes. Wait- why are you laughing?" Freddy asks.

"Sorry, but Joe's not my father; never was and never will be. Neither was Eddie," I say, grinning slightly. "You don't get to claim that you orphaned me, some other cop gets that."

"So, a cop shot both of your parents and Joe picked you up?" Freddy asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh, no. My mom died first, drive by shooting. They saw her in one of Joe's cars and just started shooting. Joe and my dad and Larry were all friends. And then a heist goes bad, because of a rat, and dad gets shot by a rookie cop. Joe picks me up from daycare that day and the rest is history." I say offhandedly. It's a story that's been told to me so many times it doesn't feel like my story.

"You're basically Batman."

"I thought I was the Silver Surfer."

"Holdaway," Freddy says, suddenly looking towards the door. Freddy and Holdaway exchange a series of glances before Holdaway clears his throat.

"We found Vega in the alleyway between third and seventh. M.E. declared him dead between 4:30 and 5 AM this morning. There was glass in his neck that we are pulling prints from now. We will need a full statement from Avery in 24 hours max."

"We can do that later," Freddy shrugs.

"No, I want to do it now," I declare, sitting up straighter in the chair.

"You don't have to," Freddy says.

"If I do it now, can it be the only time I have to tell everything? I don't care if you have to bring in a million people, but I don't think I will be able to do it more than once," I tell Holdaway. And honestly I don't think I could.

"Okay, I will find some paper and a pen," Holdaway says leaving the room.

"I just have to write everything down right?" I ask, starting to doubt if it was a good idea to even give a statement.

"Yeah, easy, just like an essay for school," Freddy shrugs.

"I hate school," I mutter, looking at the paper and pen Holdaway put in front of me.

"Just start when you encountered Vega, and go from there," Holdaway says before turning his attention to Freddy. I pick up the pen, twirling it in between my fingers before bringing it down to the page. Just like an essay. I write my name at the top of my paper: _Avery Cabot_. I pause, and then cross everything out. I start again and write _Avery_. Below that I add the date _Thursday, April 25th, 1991_. Pfft, the easy part was over with now. I look up at Freddy but he is already in a deep conversation with Holdaway and another cop. Well, here goes nothing, I think starting to write.

 **A/N So this is the second to last chapter, not including an epilogue. If you guys are interested in seeing an epilogue, let me know in the comments.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Happy Friday! Soooo, this is unofficially the last chapter! Woohoo! And with that being said, here is the disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own. :)**

"You look awful," Joe comments as we pull out of the parking lot.

"I didn't sleep well," I say. More like I didn't sleep at all, but he didn't need to know that.

"You didn't eat either," Joe adds.

"I was thinking," I shrug. I didn't notice that I didn't eat at breakfast. I was focusing too much on which one of the guys would be dead and which ones I would have to save.

"There must be a lot going on in your head then. You want to share?" Joe asks. He made it sound optional, but it wasn't.

"I'm not a hundred percent on this one," I say after what feels like an eternity.

"Why?"

"Oh, um. Well," I stall, trying to put everything together in a logical matter. Joe doesn't do emotion, especially not on job days. "The cops have been getting closer and closer. And there's a lot of tempers in this group."

"All true. Which is why things are happening a little different this job. Me and Eddie will not be in the warehouse with you. Too much risk."

"Wait, what's happening?" I ask, turning to face him completely.

"You're going to be at the warehouse, waiting. The boys are set to go in at 11, and they should be getting to you soon after that. You need to keep them there and calm, with the diamonds, until nightfall. And then go on to the airport after dark. There's too many of you to be moving by daylight."

"I don't know about that. If one of them gets injured, bad, I don't think I can keep them…" I trail off.

"If they die, leave them, after we are gone, one of the boys will go and clean everything up."

"Joe really, I don't like this at all. At least leave Eddie around or something, there's just too many of them. And-"

"Avery, there are other things that need to be handled. You have bare the brunt of this one."

"What's going on?" I ask worrying again.

"You don't need to worry about that, just focus on the guys and the diamonds," Joe says, stopping the car outside of the warehouse.

"Joe," I say, looking at the warehouse, "I think there's a rat," I say finally.

"Me too, kid. That's why the sudden change of plans. we can talk about this later." I sigh, getting out of the car and grabbing the backpack that held all of the medical stuff. "Oh, and Avery," Joe says after I have walked halfway to the warehouse. "Get inside and stay there. Just stay inside," he adds before he pulls out of the parking lot.

I look around the parking lot, the neighboring buildings and up and down the street. There's one car, at the far end of the block, and two men, sitting at a window across the street. Damn.

I dash across the lot, and shut the door of the warehouse behind me. I drop my bag next to a ramp across from the door, and continue into the warehouse. There's a couple of rooms filled with boxes, and another with lockers and benches. At the end of the hallway is a staircase leading up. There's a small crawl space stuffed to the top with boxes. I open one up to see hundreds of pocket sized bibles. I open the next one to see the same thing. The third box holds even more bibles. I shudder, pushing the boxes back and climbing down the stairs.

I go back down to main area of the white house, and begin pacing. I can't help it, waiting for someone to return is the absolute worse.

Sixty-three steps from the ramp to the doorway. Sixty-three steps from the doorway to the ramp.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall has me drawing my gun and turning on my heels.

"Av-avery," Freddy mutters as Larry half carries half drags him into the warehouse. Larry was telling him how strong he was, but all I can focus on is the red covering both of them.

"What happened?" I ask as Larry lowers Freddy onto the ramp. I wince seeing how much blood there is. Lower abdomen is bad. The chances that the bullet, I'm guessing it's a bullet but I'm not paying attention to what Larry is telling me, ripped through one of his organs is too big for me to be comfortable.

"This is bad," I say mostly to myself.

"No shit this is bad, he has a fucking bullet in his goddamn belly!" Larry shouts. I get up, drawing myself to full height to give him my best glare.

"Just shut up right now! If you are just going to freak out and be completely useless you can just go stand over there!" I shout pointing towards the next room over.

"What can I do to help?" Larry asks relaxing slightly.

"Grab my bag, and hand me stuff as I tell you to alright?" I say, sinking to my knees next to Freddy. Shit shit shit. Breathe, you got this. I start loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt all while telling him that's he's going to be okay.

"Shit, Avery," Freddy says, reaching up and placing his hand on my face. "Am I going to die?"

"No," I tell him. "I hope not," I add in a whisper. "Gauze, I need gauze," I tell Larry, holding out my hand. "Now," I add, soaking the gauze pieces in alcohol. "I'm sorry," I say to Freddy before pressing the drenched cotton into his stomach. He starts screaming, promoting Larry to cover his mouth.

"Careful, he needs to breathe. Force something into his mouth, I don't want him biting of his tongue," I say. Larry does that, shoving another piece of gauze into Freddy mouth. I roll back on my heels staring at the wound in front of me. It's still bleeding, slowly leaking out of him, forming crimson rivers on the ground. I can see the bullet glinting under the fluorescent lights of the warehouse.

"What are you going to do?" Larry asks. I grab the bag next to me and pull out a knife, tweezers, and a needle and thread.

"I need to get the bullet out," I say, letting my eyes travel from Freddy's torso up to his face. His eyes, normally shimmering with an inside joke only he seemed to know, now wild and frantic. And scared. He's scared. I grab his hand, squeezing it, hard. I hold it, rubbing circles with my thumb over the top of his hand. I hum quietly waiting for him to calm down or pass out. Whatever will make nearly doing surgery on him easier.

"This will only hurt for a few minutes, I promise." I stand up, stretching my legs, looking towards the next room where Pink and Larry are arguing. "I'll be right back, okay?" I tell Freddy, placing a kiss on his forehead and pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"For all I know she's the fucking rat!" Pink shouts gesturing at me.

"I'm not a rat!" I defend myself.

"How do I know you didn't just sit here and call the cops on us?!" Pink asks.

"Oh for fucksake, I'm not dealling with this," I say, making my way past them to the sink. I begin scrub my hands, watching the water run red. Once it's clear, I dry them and go back to Freddy. He's passed out which makes everything a little better for me. I remove the gauze from both his mouth and from around the bullet hole. I grab the tweezers and dip them in alcohol. Breathe, I remind myself. I let out a shaky breath, focusing on the silver bullet lodged in Freddy's abdomen. Just a real life version of Operation, I tell myself as I move the tweezers closer. Only this time if I'm not perfect, I could kill him. Breathe. Focus. You can do this. I steady my hand and lower the tweezers into the bullet hole.

I don't breathe again until the bullet is out. I drop the tweezers on the floor with the bullet. I press my hands against the wound, trying to stop the blood that is flowing freely. I look up at his chest, not seeing breathing, or hearing a heartbeat.

Fuck.

I look behind me, where Larry and Pink are in a heated discussion.

"Help, I need help!" I shout, but neither of them look over. "Pink! Now, please!"

"What? What is it?" Pink asks standing over me.

"Put your hands here," I instruct. Pink kneels on the other side of Freddy's body and places his hands over mine. I slowly remove my hands, pleased with the pressure Pink is using to stop the bleeding. I move closer to Freddy's head, positioning my knees to one side of his shoulders. I tilt his head back, checking his airways for any blockage. Satisfied with his empty mouth, I place my hands over each other and place them on his chest.

"Why bother?" Pink asks, beginning to remove his hands.

"Don't!" I shout, "Leave them. I need to try."

I begin compressions on Freddy's chest and I can hear Pink counting each compression out loud. After fifteen, I lean over Freddy's head, pinch his nose, and place my mouth on his to give two breaths. I begin compressions again, and Pink counts as we cycle through compressions and breaths.

"Face it Silver, he's dead," Pink says when I go to give more breathes. I shake my head, refusing to stop CPR. I go back to compressions when I hear it, a shuttering breath and a cough. I hold his head waiting for his to open his eyes. Freddy's groan is nearly music to my ears.

"Shhh, it's okay, it's going to be okay," I tell him. I grab my suture kit and situate myself next to the wound. "Go, he's fine," I tell Pink. He immediately gets up and heads into the next room. Water starts running seconds after Pink leaves my sight.

"Hmmm," I hum, not sure if I'm talking for myself or Freddy's sake. "Okay, this will hurt a bit," I say as I bring my finger into the wound. I'm checking for any damage to his organs, and therefore it's necessary, but by the way Freddy is screaming I can tell he thinks differently.

"It's over," I tell him, removing my hand. "It's okay. You're okay. You really lucky. That bullet wasn't deep, missed your organs. Got stuck in your abs," I tell him while I thread the suture through its needle. I begin a locking-stitch, starting at the bottom. His screaming starts loud and painful, but quiets to pained moans as I close his wound. "Good, good, all done," I tell Freddy as I tie off the stitches. His eyes flutter again before closing. I take his hand in mine and find a steady pulse. I stand, looking down at myself to asses the damage. My once white shirt now looks like a morbid tie-dye and my jeans are stiff with blood. I look around, fully taking in what the two men in front of me were discussing. A rat. Cops. Everything going wrong. I look away from the petty argument and towards the front of the warehouse. I begin walking towards the doors and Vic, who by the looks of it just walked in.

"Where were you?" I ask once I am close enough to him that I don't have to shout across the room.

"What happened to you?" Vic asks. I look back at Freddy and shrug.

"Bullet to the stomach, I guess. He's fine now, no internal bleeding. But he did die for a little bit, so I'm not happy with that. But he's alive again."

"So none of this is you?" Vic asks, gesturing to the blood that's nearly everywhere.

"No. God no. I'm fine. He's going to be hard to move though," I say, looking over my shoulder again. I can see the Freddy's shallow breathing.

"Where's Joe and Eddie?" Vic asks, taking a sip out of the soda he has.

"Not here," I say, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Well you could have told me they wouldn't be here at breakfast."

"I didn't know until Joe dropped me off." I counter. "Is it true-?" I start to ask before Vic cuts me off.

"One sec, let me handle these fuckers," Vic says, walking over to Larry and Pink. I follow him, but veer left to check on Freddy. I sit higher up on the ramp, away from the blood, and run my fingers through his hair. Still breathing. I begin sorting through my bag of supplies, wiping off things that can be used again and separating them from anything that needs to be disposed of.

I look up to see the three of them walking towards the door. I get up hurrying towards the door to cut them off.

"Where are you going?" I ask Vic, who is closest.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just showing them something in the car," Vic smirks. I start to protest, but Vic and Pink are already out the door. Larry gives me an apologetic look before following them out. I stand at the doorway, gun in hand, watching as they walked across the lot towards the car Vic obviously stole. They all stop, looking into the trunk of the car. I look around, noticing the car from earlier has moved closer to the warehouse, but not close enough for me to see into it. I scan the surrounding buildings counting three different buildings that had someone, most likely a cop, standing in the windows. I look back at the three surrounding the car and watch as the pull a cop out of the trunk and start dragging him towards me and the door. I step aside, letting Pink and Larry drag the cop in.

"This was stupid," I tell Vic, keeping him from going in.

"What?" Vic asks. I gesture with my eyes to the three buildings and the car up the street.

"Don't worry, Eddie will be here soon," Vic shrugs, bringing me into the warehouse with him and closing the door.

"What's your plan with him?" I ask as we watch Larry and Pink take turns beating the life out of the cop.

"Do you have any duct tape with you?" Vic asks. I nodd. "Go get it, we need to restrain it." I walk over to my bag, grabbing the silver tape. I hand it to Vic, who begins taping the cop to the chair. Once done, Vic steps back until he is next to me and we watch as Pink and Larry alternate shouting and hitting the cop. I wince as a particularly hard hit leaves the cop fighting to stay awake.

"Do you think it's true, that there's a rat?" I ask Vic, not looking away from the cop.

"What do you think, kid?"

"Joe's not here," I add.

"Exactly," Vic says stoically.

"Do you think he will show?" I ask.

"Not unless he has to, but this might force his hand," Vic says looking between the cop and Freddy.

"He's going to be pissed."

"Not unless that fucker gives us some real information."

"Please, we both knows that's not going to happen. He's going to say anything if you hit him hard enough," I say, looking at the heavily bruised and bloodied cop. He is just repeating himself now, but Larry and Pink aren't listening.

"Where is everyone?" I ask, noticing for the first time that we are two short.

"Mr. Brown is dead, and they think the same of Mr. Blue," Vic says.

"We don't know anything yet," I say, mostly to reassure myself. One dead isn't bad. One confirmed dead, one hypothesized dead, one injured, and one rat is bad. I glance over at Freddy again and can make out his shallow breathing from across the room.

"What in Sam Hill's going on here?" Eddie asks, walking in. Larry and Pink freeze and turn towards Eddie. I look up at Vic who looks slightly amused by the whole situation. Eddie scans the room taking in the cop; the blood that covers myself, Larry and Pink; Vic's nonchalant attitude; and lastly Freddy laying at the base of the ramp in his own blood.

"Nice Guy, we got a cop," Pink says, like it's something to be proud of.

"Where the fuck is Joe?" Larry asks next.

"Holy shit. Orange is dead," Eddie exclaims.

"No, he's not," I sigh, "There's just a lot of blood."

"We were set up. The cops were there waitin' for us," Pink insists.

"What? Nobody fucking set anybody up," Eddie says.

"The cops were there waiting for us!" Pink shouts.

"Bullshit!"

"Fuck you, man!"

"You weren't there, we were, and the cops had that store staked out!" Larry adds.

"Okay Mr. Fucking Detective, if you're so fucking smart, who did it?" Eddie asks, getting mad now.

"We've been asking each other!"

"And what did you come up with? You think I fucking set you up!" Eddie shouts.

"I don't know, but somebody did!" Pink snarls.

"Nobody did! You fucking assholes turned the jewelry store-!"

"Don't you call me an asshole!" Larry interrupts.

"You fucking _idiot_! Turned the jewelry store into a wild west show and you wonder why the fucking cops show up?"

"Where's Joseph?" Vic asks from next to me.

"I don't know, I ain't talk to him. I talked to Dov. He say Daddy's coming down here and he's fucking pissed."

"He's pissed? I told you he'd be pissed," Pink says to no one.

"What'd Joe say?" Larry asks.

"I told you, I ain't talked to him! All I know is he's pissed," Eddie says.

"What are you going to do about him?" Larry asks, gesturing at Freddy.

"Give me a fuckin' chance to breathe. I got a few of my own questions here."

"You ain't dying. He is," Larry counters.

"No, he's not," I say again, louder, but I'm still ignored.

"Alright Mr. Fucking-Compassion, I'll call somebody!"

"Who?" Larry asks. I feel like smacking my head against the wall at everyone's stupidity right now. He isn't fucking dying.

"A fucking snake charmer! Who do you think? I'll call a doctor," Eddie says. For fuck's sake.

"He doesn't need a fucking doctor!" I shout, easily getting everyone's attention. "He's fine. He's not fucking dying. We should be more concerned with everything else than with him. Because he isn't! Fucking! Dying!"

"That settles it then. Moving on-" Eddie declared.

"How the fuck does that settle! You're not seriously going to believe what she says! He was dead. Link him up to a hospital machine and he would have flatlined! Just because she used some girl scout CPR doesn't mean he doesn't need a doctor!" Pink shouts. I step forward, about to tell Mr. Pink where he can shove his lousy opinion, but Vic's vice grip on my arm holds me back.

"Are you a fucking doctor? No. Silver practically is. If she says he's going to be fine, he's going to be fine. Now what happened Mr. Brown and Mr. Blue?"

"Brown's dead. We don't know what happened to Blue." Pink says.

"Brown's dead? Are you sure?" Eddie asks.

"I'm sure. I was there. He took one in the head," Larry adds.

"Nobody's got a clue what happened to Mr. Blue?" Eddie asks, looking at everyone.

"Either he's alive, or he's dead, or the cops got him, or they don't," Vic deadpans from behind me.

"I take it this is the bastard you told me about. Why are you beating on him?" Eddie asks.

"Maybe he could tell us who set us up," Pink states.

"You beat this prick long enough, he'll tell you he started the Chicago fire. Now that doesn't necessarily make it fucking so!" Eddie shouts. I roll my eyes at this.

"Come on man, think!"

"All right, first things fucking last! Who's got the stones? Please, somebody tell me one little fucking favor," Eddie pleads.

"I got a bag. I stashed it 'til we could be sure this place wasn't a fucking police station," Pink says.

"Good for you. Now let's go get it," Eddie says, perking back up to his usual self. "First we got to get rid of those cars. It looks like Sam's hot car lot outside."

"Okay."

"Now Blondie, stay here and baby-sit them two. White and Pink take a car each. I'll follow you. You ditch them. Pick up the stones." Eddie says.

"You can't leave these guys here with him!" White says gesturing at myself, Freddy and the cop.

"Why not?" Eddie asks.

"Because he's a fucking psycho! And if you think Joe is pissed off, that ain't nothing compared to how pissed I am at him for putting me in the same room as that bastard!" Larry shouts.

"You see what I've been putting up with Eddie? I fucking walk in here, I told these guys about staying put, Mr. White whips out his gun, he's sticking it in my face, calling me a motherfucker, saying he going to blow me away, and blah blah blah blah blah," Vic says completely cool and collected.

"He's the reason the joint turned into a shooting spree," Larry says. "What are you, a fucking silent partner? Tell him!" Larry adds turning on Pink.

"He went crazy in the store, but he seems alright now," Pink shrugs.

"This is what he was doing," Larry says, making a finger gun, "Bam. Bam."

"Yeah, bam bam bam bam bam. I told them not to touch the fucking alarm, they did. If they hadn't have done what I told them not to do, they'd still be alive," Vic responds.

"My fucking hero," Larry says, walking towards Vic and I, clapping.

"Thanks," Vic shoots back.

"That's your excuse for going on a kill-crazy rampage?" Larry asks.

"I don't like alarms Mr. White," Vic says.

"What does it matter who stays with the cop? We ain't letting him go. He's seen everybody," Eddie says.

"I haven't been looking at you guys," the cops says. I cover my mouth to keep myself from laughing at that.

"Shut the fuck up man!" Pink shouts punching the cop in the face.

"You guys never should have taken him out of the trunk in the first place," Eddie says.

"We tried to find out about the set up," Pink says again.

"There was no fucking set up! Now here's the news. Blondie, Silver, you'll stay here and take care of these two! White and Pink, you come with me, 'cause if Joe gets here and sees all the cars parked outside, I swear to you he's going to be just as mad at me as he is at you!"

"Fine, let's go," Pink says as he follows Eddie out of the warehouse. Larry says something to Freddy before leaving as well.

"Alone at last," Vic says, taking off his jacket and moving towards the cop. I hurry to keep up with him, moving to stand in front of him.

"Blonde," I say, the name feeling fake. I rarely used the code names given. They were a good idea, but I didn't want to have to call the men I considered family by stupid names. "Please, don't do this," I plead watching as he moves even closer to the cop.

"Don't you have a paintent to be attending to, Silver?" Vic asks, his eyes hardening on the last word. I turn on my heel and walk back over to Freddy. This wasn't my place, and Vic was making that clear. I know things could get nasty quickly, dealing with cop hostages, although none of the jobs I had been on involved that particular aspect. I think Vic had, but I wasn't clear on how he handled things like this. The past four years that I have been going on jobs, he's been in jail for I don't know what. I sit down next to Freddy, instantly feeling for a pulse. Still alive. If anything stronger than before. I sit and watch as Vic walks around the cop, duct tape in hand.

"Look I'm not going to bullshit you, okay? I don't really give a fuck what you know or don't know, but I'm going to torture you regardless. Not to get information. It's amusing to me, to torture a cop." Whatever else Vic says is lost to me as I repeat his last words in my head.

Amusing to torture a cop. Amusing to torture. Torture. Amusing. It's amusing to me to torture a cop. Torture a cop.

I'm frozen as I watch Vic as Vic fakes the cop out with his gun, and then pull a razor out from his boot. Vic turns on the radio and begins walking towards me and Freddy.

"Is he awake?" Vic asks, crouching down in front of us. I shake my head, unable to think of anything to actually say. "Good." He grins before walking back to the cop.

Not walking, dancing to the music that was now playing. I blanch and grip Freddy's hand in mine as Vic makes a slash across the cop's face. Vic straddles the cop, bringing the razor to the side of the cop's head. I watch, unable to look or even blink as Vic slowly saws his ear off. Seconds feel like hours as the cops screams get louder and Vic's smirk gets more and more sinister. Vic gets up and walks away from the cop, but I'm stuck looking between the ear on the floor and the hole in the cop's head. The slamming of the warehouse door frees me from my trance. I stand up shakely, going over to my bag and pull out a bottle of Oxycodone. I approach the cop quickly, looking over my shoulder multiple times to check if Vic was returning. I pour four of the pills into my hand.

"You need to take these," I say approaching him. He jerks his head back and forth trying to get away from me. I move closer, putting my hand with the pills over his mouth and my other over his nose, blocking his airways. I wait for him to open his mouth, force the pills him and then wait for him to shallow. Once he swallowed I back away. "It will help," I manage to tell him before Vic returns carrying a canister of gasoline.

"What are you doing?! Are you insane? This place is filled with flammable things!" I shout. Vic shrugs and continues walking. "I-I can't let you do this," I tell him, drawing my gun and standing between the cop and him. Vic swings the gas can, hitting the gun out of my hands. He swings again, and I hear the sound of the canister hitting my head before I feel it. I stumble backwards, hitting the floor just as my vision goes completely black.

Silver. Silver. Silver. Why the hell is Eddie repeating silver? Idiot.

I take account of my surroundings. I'm definitely laying down on something cold. I can move my fingers and toes. My eyes are closed. Eddie is still going on about silver, and being dead.

Is he talking about me? I focus on sound right now and realize that there's a lot of other people in the room, walking around. Whites and pinks and oranges. Fuck. What is Eddie going on about? God I hope he hasn't come home drunk again. I force myself to sit up and open my eyes at the same time. The first thing I notice is the nausea that keeps passing through me. Fuck.

"Silver, what happened?" Eddie asks, three of him crouching in front of me.

"I-uh, fuck," I swear as nausea hits me again.

"Are you okay?" the three Eddie's asks again.

"I'm fine," I say slowly, using the wall behind me to stand up. I look around the room, noting the four different people staring at me. I need to pull myself together. I focus on breathing, ignoring what Eddie is saying.

"Silver, I need you to stay with us, okay?" Eddie says again.

"I'm fine," I say again, once the three Eddie's consolidate into one. I look around again, this time noticing the blood everywhere, and someone slumped against the far wall. Fuck. No one's moving to help whoever it is, so I start walking towards him. The ground moves as I walk, making the nausea return. Eddie begins shouting again. I kneel down next to the man, trying not to pass out. There are bullet holes all over his chest, and his head is down, hiding his identity. I lift his head, and have to bit down on my own hand to keep from screaming.

Dead. I grab his hand, looking for any pulse and its cold. Cold and dead.

I blink, trying to keep myself together. I look up and see Larry watching me. I shake my head. He's dead. I try to stand up to go help the other guy, who's name I can't remember; he's covered in blood, but my legs will not support me. I sit between the door and the body, watching but not listening or understanding as Eddie yells at the guy covered in blood. Fuck. What was his name? Fuck.

Someone barges through the door, Joe, not even sparing a second to look at around him.

More shouting. Everyone pulls out their guns, even the guy on the floor. Freddy. That's his name.

"LARRY STOP POINTING THAT GUN AT MY DAD!" Eddie shouts.

Bang.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I feel frozen. I see myself standing up and stepping forward, but I am frozen. I see myself walk across the room, stepping over legs and arms. I know I am crouching down in front of Freddy and Larry, but all I can think about is the sound. The sound of the guns going off. The sound of them hitting the concrete, one by one. The sound of their guns falling afterwards. The sound of the muffle moans coming from each of them.

"Avery, Avery! Pay attention to me," Freddy says, grabbing my hand with his hand. I look at him, trying to process what he is saying. "I need you to take this, and go outside. You will find help. Just show them this, and it will be okay. Avery, I need you to do this," Freddy pants, putting something into my hand. "Just say that people are alive, okay?"

"I can't leave everyone," I say finally.

"You will be right back, I promise. You are just going to get help. Avery, you need to do this," Freddy repeats. I stand up and notice for the first time that I'm shaking. Freddy slumps further into the ramp, flashing a small smile at me, telling me to go. I stumble towards the door, tripping over someone's arm. I steady myself against the wall next to door, preparing to go outside.

I look down at the object in my hand, noticing for the first time that it's the engagement ring Adam gave Freddy. I push the door open and take a step out. The sunlight blinds me, and for a moment there is no noise at all.

"Step away from the building and put your hands up!" someone shouts. I follow their instructions, taking two steps before falling to my hands and knees. I stare at the ground, trying not to pass out, when two pairs of shoes come in my vision.

"They need help. Please. They are alive," I breathe. I release the ring from my hands and watch as it rolls across the pavement. One of the men bend down and picks it up. He stays crouching.

"How did you get this?" he asks, "Who gave this to you?"

"Orange- Freddy, Freddy gave it to me. Please. They need help, please."

"Detective, we need to get her away from the building," another cop says. I feel myself being lifted up, and walked back towards a crowd of people, but I keep looking back over my shoulder where everyone is. Someone is talking to me, or at me, but I am watching the door. No one is going in, or coming out.

"Why isn't anyone going in there?! They need help!" I shout, trying to get back to the door. "I need to help them? Why aren't you going in there!"

I still as the door opens. Mr. Pink jogs out, and then stops. He looks around, making eye contact with me, as one of the cops sends a bullet into his leg. I try to rush forward again, but someone stops me. I shove my elbow into the guy's gut, but he still doesn't release me.

 _Bang_

The sound of the gunshot from the inside of the building finally breaks me.

 **A/N and there we go. let me know what you think. Do you like how it ended? Do you like how it was organized? Do you want more of Avery's story, either pre-heist or post-heist. Just leave a comment down below and don't forget to favorite :D**


End file.
